They had thought the pain was blinding, but actually being blinded was a different sensation altogether. Worse, actually. Cherry’s throat was raw at this point. Puriel did not mend it in hopes that it would discourage her from further screaming. Her eyes were jelly in their sockets, warped and welling up with blood. Her eyelids spasmed, desperate to eject the shards, but only succeeded in mashing them further in. Damn, that kid could aim! Scrabbling sightlessly for the door handle, they made to rush after him—only to freeze.

“I see you, demon.”

Shit. [i]Shit[/i]. They curled in on themself, hoping their head was beneath the window. Of course the boy ran. What were they thinking? Be not afraid? When had a human ever reacted without fear in the presence of an angel? Their nostrils flared, burning with the smell of silver. Another knight. Fucking fantastic. The soul of the one they had killed clung to them like vinegar—they hadn’t had time to consume it in the heat of battle. Now, though… they shivered, mouth hanging open like a serpent scenting the air. It was easier without vision, somehow—one less sense to block out as they pulled the limp soul beneath their skin. Energy crackled through them, limbs twitching as they threaded his life force through their veins, stemmed their internal bleeding, relished the destruction of his very spirit. Basked in the knowledge that any vestige of him that made it to heaven would know exactly what the rest of him was used for.

[i]Yum[/i], said Cherry, because she really knew how to ruin a moment.

Puriel sighed. Their vision was a mess of color—it would take some time to heal fully, even with the soul acting as an accelerant. Eyes were complicated beasts. One of them spit out a shard of glass like a vending machine might a crumpled bill. “Hail, knight,” they said. Contrary to what their host would have you believe, they did have some manners. “You are not my quarry. Allow me to pass, and you may keep your life.”

No response. This whole diplomatic approach was really not working out for them. No matter. The knight could chase after them if he wanted to, but they would not waste precious energy on attacking him first. Leaping out of the window, they hissed as air tore past their shredded eyes. The nephilim’s trail was almost gone—city buzz hid any noises her rescuer (kidnapper?) was making, and her raucous mind was nearly out of reach. Chase, Puriel commanded, leaving Cherry with the reins as they stretched their consciousness to its limit.

They had to give it to him, the kid could run. Rubber sizzled on the pavement, ripped from squealing tires as they swerved. His sneakers moved with similar fervor, but a far less revolting smell—their soles were a rubber of righteousness. A good samaritan or a knight who was going to get one hell of a promotion after this. Or… another angelborn. But no. Surely Puriel could not be so fortunate. They clutched the girl’s brain as she was carried below the earth, holding on tight. It would have been better to probe the boy’s and confirm their suspicions, but finding his mind beneath the riotous broadcast of her memories would take more time and energy than they had. [i]Attention whore[/i], Cherry scoffed.

Puriel bristled. [i]You will not speak of an angel that way.[/i]

The body ran face-first into a building. Then it got shot.

Cursing proficiently, Cherry dug her fingers into the brick. Puriel flooded her with analgesics. [i]Keep going.[/i]
 
[i]I’m trying, asshole! We’re blind, remember?[/i]

Puriel shoved her off of the motor controls. God, they really did have to do everything around here. Patting the wall, they were rewarded with a seam in the brick. A door. They shoved it open and ducked beneath another bullet, retracting their bone-appendages and running (it was really more of a fast hobble) towards the stairs. Screams pierced the incessant buzz of car horns and gunshots. Great. Hopefully this was a restaurant or something and not a place of worship. Their day was complicated enough as it was. Stumbling down the stairs, they hit another door at the bottom—but this one would not budge. The body fell to its knees. Fuck. That knight was probably in hot pursuit.

“Let me in,” Puriel yelled.

[i]You are literally the worst at this.[/i]

They would have rolled their eyes if the glass weren’t preventing it. [i]Then perhaps you would like to try.[/i]

She poked at control of her own brain. [i]Yeah. Move.[/i]

They relinquished it reluctantly, not entirely convinced she wasn’t going to break her shoulder throwing it into the door. She did not. Strange what fatigue did to recklessness. Resting her forehead against the cool metal of the door, she projected her voice as best she could. “Hey, man. I’m Cherry. Sorry that my demon is being a bitch. I totally get that you’re scared of me; I would be too.” She coughed wetly. "But like, not to be an ass, we would have just killed you in that car if we wanted to. We don’t.” 

She took a deep breath, praying he could hear her. “Look, we just wanna talk to the girl. Honest and for true. If you open the door, I can teleport us all outta here. You can come and everything. Never have to let her outta your sight. I bet she’s doing pretty rough, right? We can heal her, get her away from all the cops and shit. Get [i]you [/i]away from all the cops and shit. We can take a breath and talk things out once we're there, okay? I [i]promise[/i]. Demons can’t break deals, y’know. I promise we’ll get you out safe.”

Puriel heard footsteps thundering upstairs. Cherry had to stop this incessant rambling. Either this door opened or they were burning it down.